


your pulse in the pages

by poiregourmande



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 18:02:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16938060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poiregourmande/pseuds/poiregourmande
Summary: Ryan has figured it was just a coincidence that Shane never invited him over – Ryan’s place was bigger, closer to work, etc. Seeing Shane scramble to find a reason to refuse him access to his bathroom? That’s when Ryan starts to suspect Shane’s hiding something.





	your pulse in the pages

**Author's Note:**

> this was a headcanon jam who got out of hand - written with the help of a friend who'd prefer to remain anonymous

In all the years they’ve known each other, Ryan has never once seen the inside of Shane’s apartment. This is only occurring to him now, as he drops Shane home after a shoot and realizes he probably shouldn’t have had this huge soda since it’s gonna be a good forty-five minutes until he reaches his bathroom. 

“Hey man,” he asks as Shane unbuckles his seatbelt, “can I use your bathroom?” He shakes the Big Gulp empty cup for emphasis. 

Shane freezes. Ryan can see the gears turning in his brain. “Sure,” he finally says after a good minute of silence. 

Ryan has figured it was just a coincidence that Shane never invited him over – Ryan’s place was bigger, closer to work, etc. Seeing Shane scramble to find a reason to refuse him access to his bathroom? That’s when Ryan starts to suspect Shane’s hiding something. 

Does he have an entire secret family, complete with a wife, three kids and a dog?

Does he run a clandestine brothel out of his back room?

Or maybe Ryan’s finally about to see what a demon’s lair looks like. 

“First on the left,” Shane mumbles, stepping in front of Ryan – but tall as he may be, he can hardly hide an entire apartment with only his body.

It’s a regular apartment, Ryan is almost disappointed to find. No adorable triplets or wife baking apple pie. No scantily-clad ladies or shady middle-aged customers. No hellfire or brimstone. Just Ikea furniture, the same coffee table Ryan and half their friends have, an XBox, one or teo succulents and a bookshelf.

A bookshelf. Which is the thing Shane seems to be hovering in front of the most. 

“Nice place, man,” Ryan mumbles, before making a beeline for the bathroom. 

“Fuck,” he hears Shane mutter before he closes the door behind him. 

And then he sees it. On the shelf behind the toilet, a pile of pastel paperbacks with muscular hunks and dainty ladies on the covers.

So, Shane likes romance novels. Who cares? Ryan will poke fun for like ten minutes, and it’s gonna be forgotten, like Ryan’s love of Celine Dion or TJ’s obsession with Care Bears. Something catches Ryan’s eye, though, and he takes a closer look as he’s zipping his pants up again – he’d recognize the Lakers colors anywhere. 

The blurb at the back of the book tells him it’s a romance between a budding filmmaker and an NBA star. Ryan chuckles and is about to set the book back when he sees the front cover. The dude in the painting, in a Lakers uniform, is buff, with dark hair, a tan skin and a bright smile. Ryan does a double take. It's like looking into a funhouse mirror, if funhouse mirrors made you look like absolute hunks. 

The same dude seems to be on the cover of the next book. Except this time he’s in a trenchcoat with a fedora hat, and the blurb tells him it’s a love story between a private eye and the lady who hired him to find out who killed her husband.

The third book still showcases the same guy – this time with a backdrop of a haunted mansion, holding a terrified girl tenderly. 

Only then does he notice the author’s name, the same on all of them. 

_ Gene Alexander _ .

He dashes out of the bathroom holding the incriminating books to find Shane’s dimmed the lights and stands defensively in front of the bookshelf. An impressive collection, Ryan has to admit, all of them pastel-covered, all of them by the same author.

“It’s… not what it looks like?” Shane offers weakly.

“Some romance writer whose name coincidentally combines your favourite OC and your middle name writes a whole bookshelf worth of novels about stuff closely related to our lives  _ and _ found my doppelgänger to model for the covers?” Ryan provides helpfully.    
  
“Exactly! So y’know, I had to buy the whole collection, cause like, what are the odds!”   
  
“Shane.”

Shane’s whole body slumps in defeat and he throws himself dramatically on the couch. “You’ve found me out. I write romance novels. Laugh it up.”   
  
“How long have you been doing this for?”

“Picked it up in college for a quick buck. You’ll notice the older ones,” he points at the top shelf, “aren’t about you.”   
  
“But you got a career and everything, now.”   
  
“Turns out I’m great at it and it relaxes me, so I never stopped. My fans would never recover if I did.”

Ryan gives an indulgent smile. “Either you’re full of it, or these are pretty good. Knowing you, both options are likely.”

“They’re better than the hotdaga,” Shane grins, waiting for Ryan to pick up his usual bit, fake barf or pretend to run away, but he just freezes like he didn’t hear him. 

“Did you say the top ones weren’t  _ about me _ ? That means the other ones are?”   
  
Shane tugs a hand through his hair. “I mean, yeah? I thought that was obvious?”   
  
“I just thought my likeness was on the cover, I didn’t think you actually  _ based bodice-rippers on me _ !”   
  
Shane chuckles nervously, flush spreading across his cheeks. “So I guess now would be the time to come clean about that crush huh?”

 


End file.
